


The Guardians of Soho

by Miss_Amby



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Post-Apocalypse, oc needed to move plot along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19783228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Amby/pseuds/Miss_Amby
Summary: The humans around knew something was up with the bookshop on the corner.  They wouldn't have said anything to anyone but when some shady people start watching the store they knew they need to have a chat with Mr. Fell and his friend.





	The Guardians of Soho

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an idea that came out of “It’s the light (it’s the obstacle that casts it)” by Handful_of_Silence. I really liked the idea of Aziraphale being someone that the area could rely on and from that also came the idea that humans aren’t as dumb as we appear and the locals of the area know that something is up with the bookshop on the corner. This is the result.

There wasn’t anyone left alive* that remembered the opening of A.Z. Fell and Co. back in 1800 but it had been a staple of the area since. Everyone in the area knew it was there, probably not open but still part of the history of Soho.

(*That was mortal)

As the decades went by, everyone in the area knew there was something up with the man who ran the bookshop. He never seemed to age; always stuck in mid-life and never a grey hair or unwanted wrinkles on his face. His outfit barely changed either; always a button up and waistcoat with slacks and a watch chain. Sometimes he wore glasses and sometimes he didn’t, sometimes he had an old but loved coat on but not matter what, there was always a bow tie. The bookshop and the owner were a staple in the changing world of Soho, London.

Grandmothers would tell tales of the war that if you walked into the store you would leave feeling safe and with a ration of something in your basket, whatever it was you needed but you weren’t quite sure how it got there. Students would talk about how it was a quiet place to study if you were a major of anything involving older literature, the texts you needed to use on the shelves and available for you to use if you asked kindly enough and promised not to buy them*. Young adults of the ’50s and ’60s spoke of how it was a place to run to if the lilies were after you, that the queen would let you in and hide you until they were gone. Gangsters and Mobsters of the decades would tell stories of their associates going in and coming back out with the fear of God or someone put into them, making them leave their life of crime and telling everyone to leave that area alone. It kept them from trying to shake down the business around the corner store.

(*bribes of sugary things helped too. The shop owner had a big sweet tooth.)

They knew his name wasn’t really Ezra Fell or Zira Fell or whatever name he was using as the years past but they weren’t going to ruin it for him, not when he was their guardian angel.

There was also talk of their guardian demon too. Since 1926, a Bentley would sometimes be parked out front in a spot where no one really should park. As decades passed it was out there more and more until it seemed like almost every day it was there. Anytime it was there, rumors spread about glowing yellow eyes in the alleys where deals were broken as mobsters and others in the wrong ran for their mortal lives. It was always around the area of the bookshop that these rumors arose from and it was easy to make a connection between the Bentley, the shop and their owners.

The people in the stores around the shop would smile when they saw a red-headed man walking with their guardian, the pair talking adamantly back and forth as if they were the only two in the world. Sometimes snippets would be overheard and those around would learn a little bit of history, of things lost to time and only remembered by the two immortals.

But there came a moment when the mortals noticed something odd going on around the bookshop. It became common to see certain people sitting across the way, at the cafe or in the alleys. Some were dressed in suits in spring colors while others looked like they came out of the ground and had some sort of ancient disease festering on their skin. The workers in the surrounding shops spread the word around to the locals and soon there were people popping in and out of the shop, looking for anything that would help to figure out what the strangers across the street would want with their guardians.

It wasn’t until a worker overheard them saying they needed to ‘catch the traitors’ and ‘make them pay for real’ did they decide to act. It was like an old-fashioned game of telephone, word of mouth passing on the information until it got to old Mrs. Hughes. She was one of the old souls of Soho. Born in 1934, she remembered Mr. Fell as the kind man that made sweets appear from behind her ears when her mother went in to talk to him and the demon as the man that protected her granddaughter when she was out late at night. These beings had been kind to her family and it was time to repay the favor.

Mrs. Hughes and her granddaughter decided to go together, and not just because the elder woman needed the help moving about. They went with determination and a tin of biscuits; they didn’t know how long this conversation would last and it was best to show up with a treat. 

“Remember what we talked about Ava dear.”

“I know, Gran, I know. Don’t let them try and talk us out of anything and be polite. I do know how to mind my manners.”

“I know, I know but they aren’t going to like what we have to say. Best to be prepared is all.”

It happened that the shop was opened and they walked in, breathing in the scent of old books and the underlying smell of fine wines.

“Oh, hello. Can I help you with anything?” The voice carried from the back of the store and got closer and soon Mr. Fell was smiling at them with his kind eyes.

“It’s more that we can help you, Mr. Fell. Are there others here? We need to speak with you and your...partner. It would be best if you closed, this conversation isn’t for everyone to hear.” Mrs. Hughes’s words were supposed to sound kind but they raised a red flag with the owner and the smile fell from his face.

“My partner is in the back and there is no one else here. Head that way and let me lock up real quick. Crowley!”

“What?” a new voice echoed from the back room and sounded annoyed at being yelled at.

“Put the kettle on dear and clean off the table, we have company.” Mr. Fell moved to the front of the store and locked the door, switching the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed’ and led the ladies to the back room. It was as crammed and as organized chaos as the rest of the store. The redhead was mumbling to himself as he flicked on an electric kettle in the corner and started gathering up mugs from around the room. The ladies sat down at the table and placed the biscuit tin in the center and then looked at the men expectedly.

Mr. Fell sighed, “Will you go ahead and start please, dears? The tea will be served shortly, I hope you don’t mind Earl Grey.” 

“It’s fine Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley? Thank you for listening to us, what we have to say is important but please don’t overreact.” Mrs. Hughes plastered on a smile, “We first met in 1940 when my mother Agnes Wood brought me with her. She needed some help with the rations; you were always good about helping out women whose husbands were at war. Once you were done talking to her you made a sweet appeared from behind my ear and I thought you were made of magic. We came back a few more times after that but once the war ended there was no need.” She never let her eyes left the shop owner as his face got paler and paler at her story. Crowley snorted at the ‘magic’ part of her story but sat the tea tray down and handed out their drinks. Mr. Fell accepted the cookie he placed in his hand before snatching one up for himself as well.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of it either, Mr. Crowley. I never got to say thank you for saving me from that bastard a year ago. And yes, I know it was you. While the glowing yellow eyes threw me off no one else around this part walks quite like you do.” Ava smirked behind her teacup and Mr. Fell couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment on Crowley’s walk.

“So you know a few things. What makes you think we’ll let you out there with your memories in tack after we’re done?” There was ice in Crowley’s tone but Mr. Fell put a hand on his arm as if trying to make him back off.

“What Crowley means is that you’re saying a lot of things that could get you in trouble and...well we have to protect ourselves.” His tone was different again. It was commanding and serious, like someone who had risked it all before and wasn’t willing to do it again without a fight.

“That’s what we are trying to do, dears; help protect you. You see we, and I say we because it’s all of us locals, we know you aren’t human. Good at pretending for the most part but we know you aren’t. We’ve...well we’ve taken to calling you our guardians. You help us out when you can and what not.” Mrs. Hughes paused and took a sip of her tea as she watched the pair of men have a silent conversation with just their eyes. “Now we would like to protect you.”

Ava picked up the conversation, “Yeah, there’s been some blokes hanging around across the street and at first everyone was just noticing them because they were weird, ya know? And then they started talking about why you would own a bookshop and how long would they stay in there and ‘why don’t the traitors just come out already?’ And they dress the oddest way. I mean Mr. Fell you dress odd, no offense. It was a good look in 1953 but not nowadays,” she paused briefly as Mr. Fell smacked his friend in the arm in a poor attempt to stop him from laughing. “Some of them are dressed in sleek suits in pale colors with these weird gold markings on their face and the other ones smell like everything bad in the city turned up to eleven and they look like they were attacked by zombies.” Crowley stopped laughing when she said that and looked down at the cup in his hand.

“We know they’re after you. Not sure why but we know it won’t end well. We wanted you to know so you could protect yourselves however you needed to. Can we ask though, why are they calling you traitors? What’s so special about the pair of you?” Mrs. Hughes looked at them with kind eyes and will a sigh Mr. Fell sat his cup down, Crowley following his action. 

The latter pushed his hand through his hair and pulled off his glasses to reveal gold serpent eyes. “We are going to trust you. Not with everything but you seemed to know enough. Clever, mortal humans, eh angel?”

“Quite. My real name is Aziraphale, you don’t have to keep calling me Mr. Fell. But back to the matter at hand. They do sound like our...old head offices. Did anyone say anything about one with purple or violet eyes?”

“Yeah, one of the waitresses said he could be a Targaryen with eyes like that.” Ava smiled when she saw that the two of them understood her reference*.

(*The pair of immortals enjoyed watching the show together. Crowley enjoyed watching Azirahphale get queasy with all the violence. Aziraphale enjoyed pointing out the differences from the books. Neither enjoyed Ramsey Bolton, it brought back too many memories of various torture they had seen through the centuries)

“Oh bugger. Gabriel is down here then and that means who for you, dear?”

“Hasssstur. Probably sssstill pisssssed I melted Ligur. Dagon maybe. Beelzzzzebub wouldn’t come up here, they normally send lackiesss for this ssssort of thing. But then again we did pisssss them all off ssssso...” Crowley rubbed the spot between his eyes and let out an inhuman hiss, “Thought they were going to leave usssss alone.”

“And they will. How long has this been going on? We can probably take care of this on our own.” Aziraphale looked at the two women and gave them a confused look when they just shook their heads.

“It’s been going on for a few weeks now and we protect our own here. That means you two. You’ve helped us out for at least a century now let us do this for you. We’ll tell them to bugger off and that should be the end of that,” the older woman nodded her head at them before taking a biscuit. 

Aziraphale’s face glowed with a soft smile, the kind that Mrs. Hughes recognized on herself when her grandchild did something that was extraordinary. “Oh, you amazing humans. Always doing such exceptional things. They called us traitors because instead of siding with our offices we sided with you. We tried to keep the world from ending because we have, ‘gone native’ as they put it.”

“We’ve been here a long, long time. Things rub off on you. They don’t tolerate it and well it’s really a very human idea. If you don’t understand something well…” Crowley waved a hand in the air in a nonchalant way.

“You try and take it out. Right. Well, there are a few of them at the cafe across the street right now, if you wanna watch I’d say you best get a better seat. Come on, Gram, let’s go kick some ass.” Ava finished her tea in a hurry before standing up. She pulled her grandmother’s chair out and helped her up as Aziraphale moved and got something out from his desk behind him, mumbling under his breath as he hands glowed around whatever it was.

“Here, Crowley, add to it. I know we can’t stop you but please be careful. Wear these, they’ll help protect you.” While Aziraphale was speaking, Crowley had his fist pressed against his mouth, hissing at it as it glowed with darkness. When he was done he held his hand out and the two women took the rings that were inside. They felt warm and cold at the same time as they slid the plain bands onto their fingers.

“If they active it should hurt them. For Someone’s sake, I hope that doesn’t happen. Show them out, Aziraphale, I’ll go grab a couple of chairs and clear out the window space upstairs,” with a swagger he left them. Aziraphale sighed and shook his head before smiling at the two ladies.

“Well then, let’s get this over with. I do wish we could have talked you out of it but that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Nope.” Ava popped the ‘p’ as he unlocked and opened the door for them, walking out and down the steps with the ladies. He looked around and saw who they were talking about, an angel and a demon sitting in the outside area of the little cafe. 

“Yes, those are our people. The man there who looks like, well a prick, is Gabriel. Tell him we say hello and to leave us alone. If the Almighty hasn’t done anything after what they did to us then nothing should be done. Best of luck,” He gave Ava and Mrs. Hughes a hug before retreating into the bookshop.

“Well, my dear, let’s go yell at some other immortals shall we?” Ava nodded her head as Mrs. Hughes walked with purpose across the street and stopped at the table. There were only two people...creatures...whatever they were there. One had purple eyes and a fine suit while the other seemed to be wearing a fly-looking hat with the small insects buzzing around it.

  
  


“Can we help you?” The purple-eyed man had a voice that made Ava want to punch him. It was like every male that ever thought they were better than anyone else around them.

“Yeah, you can. Leave Aziraphale and Crowley alone. They say hello and fuck off. They want nothing to do with you lot,” Ava was livid. There was just something about that man that set her on edge.

“What my granddaughter means is we protect our own down here and that’s what they are to us; ours. Whatever happened in the past Aziraphale made it sound like it was over and done with and that if anything was supposed to happen after it would have by now. So you really have no reason to be down here. Best get back to where you should be.” She looked at the man with fire in her eyes and he glared back, any kindness that had been on his face gone in a flash.

“Watch what you say, mortal, or you could get into a lot of trouble,” The purple eyed man’s voice was one of steel, no kindness in his words.

“What that one zzzzaid, mortal. Don’t toy with what you don’t underzzzztand.” The flies buzzing around zir head were distracting the humans but it was low-level compared to the...people they were having to talk to.

“We understand enough, thank you very much. Your groups, whoever they might be, are both idiots. If you said you were going to leave them alone, if you already gave them a punishment then it’s done! Over! Leave them the Hell alone!” Ava was ranting a bit but stopped when the two started laughing at her. “What’s so bloody funny?”

“Juzzzzt that Hell izzzn’t going to leave them alone.”

“Nor is Heaven.”

“No, they broke the rulezzz and played uzzz for foolzzzz. There muzzzt be a punishment.”

“It sounds like they have already had one. Really now, it’d be for the best if you all just go home.” Mrs. Hughes looked at them sternly with the gaze of a grandmother behind it. The man with purple eyes finally had enough and stood up, pushing himself away from the table and walked over to the women, towering over them. 

“You don’t know what forces you’re going up against. Leave us to deal with those...idiots as needed.” He reached out and tried to grab them both but as he tried he let out a yelp and waved his hand about, like something that was burned.

“What. Was. That.” He seemed to pulse with power, a bright glow coming from him as the other stood up and reached for them as well. The same thing happened when they made contact with the humans.

“That felt like ethereal power,” The fly covered one said but the partner just looked at zir oddly.

“No, it was demonic.” They stared at each other for a moment before suddenly their eyes grew wide.

“They can do both.”

“That’zzz not good for uzzzz.”

“Well then, best to leave them alone then, right? Seems like they can muck you up. Go,” Ava waved her hands at them it a shooing motion, a smirk on her face.

Gabriel glared at them with a darkness settling on his face, “We’ll be back. You two can’t protect them forever.”

“Who said it was just the two of them?” Both entities whirled around at the waiter’s voice behind them, as a few people started to stand up and just...well the look on their faces was one of a parent facing down something that was being mean to their child and wanted nothing more to do with the offending thing. “They are ours, not yours. Bugger off with you.”

“Thizzzz won’t be the lazzzt you’ll zzzeee of uzzzz.” One moment the creatures were there and suddenly they weren’t. There was a sense of peace around the block as if a source of power had suddenly left the area.

The humans didn’t notice the pair sitting in the bookshop window, didn’t see them snap their fingers just before the pair of women confronted their old bosses so that there was a protective bubble around the cafe for this meeting. They didn’t see them smirk as the two were shocked by the gift they gave the women, didn’t see how proud they were of humanity, of protecting two creatures they didn’t have the full story about but claimed them as theirs.

One angel and demon felt a sense of peace once their old bosses were gone. Yes, they would probably be back but they would be ready. They had something more than just themselves to fight for after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't create Good Omens, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett have that honor.
> 
> Thank you to NerdyFarmerGirl12 for proof-reading; my sisters have given up on me for this.


End file.
